Page 47 of His Reward
“Yeah, Barrington, Norwalk, and Turnersville just up Highway Eighty have some of the best skating facilities in the world. Competitors from all over the world train here.”
“I didn’t know that,” Boston said, grinning at me like he’d found a prize and would hold on to me forever.
“It’s true,” I said. “That’s one reason my mother and father settled here when I was a kid. They were both competitive figure skaters, and they wanted to be the best among the best.”
Talking about my father threatened to put me in a bad mood, so I didn’t say anything else about him. It was hard not to make some sort of comment, though, when Stephen ended up on the podium at the end of the night. He’d only managed a bronze while Oliver won silver, which was incredible for him, and Wilhelm Strauss, as expected, took the gold. There was a brief mention of me as the commentators speculated how I would have performed, if I’d been there, but they moved away from that to cut to an interview with my father and Stephen.
“I’m going to bed,” I said, standing abruptly without listening to a word my father said.
“I’ll come with you,” Boston said, standing as well.
That earned us a round of whistles and cat-calls from the rest of the guys, but as lewd as they were, I didn’t mind. More than that, I laughed, kind of enjoying the fact that they all thought things were about to get frisky between me and Boston.
The truth was that I wasn’t ready yet.
“You don’t mind that we’re just cuddling?” I asked Boston once we were tucked into bed, fully clothed.
Boston drew in a breath that was both him taking in my scent and a sigh of patience. “You know I want nothing more than to flip you over and pound you into the mattress,” he said frankly, a spark of lust in his eyes. “But I get that you aren’t ready yet.”
“I want to be,” I said, feeling stupid and self-conscious, especially as I caught myself subconsciously rubbing my scarred left arm. “It’s just that?—”
Boston silenced me with a kiss. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. End of story,” he said once he had me turned into a puddle of bottled desire in his arms.
I laughed, but that turned into a painful sigh. “It feels so stupid for me to be so nervous about sex now when I have been a member of the Dark Fantasies Club for years and routinely got my jollies having alpha strangers fuck me raw.”
I felt a brief flare of possessiveness from Boston, but he let it go. We both belonged to the Dark Fantasies Club, and I definitely wasn’t the first omega he’d pounded into a mattress. I did, however, intend to be the last.
“When you’re ready,” Boston said, then kissed me again before we settled down to sleep.
I wanted to tell him I loved him. Those words were right there on my lips. I wanted to say that I loved him, I wanted him, and that I was so much stronger when we were together. I wanted to commit the rest of my life to him. He was the only alpha I knew who would both love and cherish me and also give me all the encouragement I needed to take back the life I’dalmost lost. He was the only alpha I knew who could do all that while engaging in raunchy, dirty scenes with me and fucking me like I was a possession. But the time didn’t feel right. Not yet.
I waitedfor the time to feel right. I wanted it to feel perfect. The Winter Games ended, the world moved on, and I continued to train with the firefighters. Mom initiated divorce proceedings from Father, Marco called me a few times to accuse me of putting her up to it and blaming the destruction of our family on me, and I continued to live with Boston above the firehouse.
And I was actually happy, believe it or not. Better still, happiness came with inspiration.
“I’ve just had an amazing idea,” I told Boston one early-spring afternoon, after the guys had come back from a house fire and finished cleaning up.
“I love an amazing idea,” Boston said, striding over to me and taking me into his arms after putting his kit away. He smelled amazingly of tobacco, smoke, and sweat. I shouldn’t have liked it half as much as I did, but the scent was so powerful that it came close to overpowering my lingering self-consciousness about my body and sex. “Lay it on me,” Boston said.
“The firehouse needs money, right?” I asked, sliding my arms around his waist and practically rubbing myself all over him. I really needed to just then, like rubbing against Boston was the only thing that could ease the lingering itch of my healing skin.
“Always,” Boston said, his voice gruff with desire that I knew he was trying to keep inside.
The firehouse garage suddenly felt too warm. “And Giovanni keeps bugging me to set him up with Thomas or Oliver or any number of my other friends,” I went on.
Boston laughed, the sound making me feel light. “I can tell him to stop.”
“No, no!” I said. “That’s part of my idea.” When Boston looked questioningly at me, I went on with, “Firefighters and figure skaters. It’s a perfect combination. Fire and ice.”
Boston laughed out loud, holding me closer. “I never thought of it that way.” He grinned down at me like I was an ice cube he wanted to suck on and rub all over his overheated body.
I had a hard time concentrating when he looked like that, but I pushed myself on and said, “We could do a joint fundraiser, a Fire and Ice ball, or something like that. And part of that could be an auction.”
Boston’s grin was irresistible. “I wonder where you got the idea for that.”
I flushed hot. Yeah, it was definitely time for me to dive back into the sexy waters. “Gee, I wonder,” I said.
“It sounds like a great idea,” Boston said, shrugging one shoulder. “In fact?—”
